It's getting hot enough that the woman swears both her nose and the paint on the barn will soon start blistering. I say bring it on! She calls this hot? Hah! We donkeys call it comfortably warmish. Everyone else (except the cats, who are really just small donkeys) is panting and perspiring and carrying on as if we live on the surface of Mars. For heaven's sake, Jack still has much of his winter coat and he finds it "jest passin' comfrable".
Herself has been embroiled (almost literally) in cleaning out our hay storage and we take great pleasure in watching her gradually turn a bright shade of crimson under her dust mask. She sweeps and rakes and brushes down cobwebs and trundles load after load of hay leavings out to compost behind the silo. I can assure you, it's all perfectly edible and we spend much energy trying to get at it. She says it's dusty and horrible but this is from someone who has been known to eat fish and other strange things.
All this activity is a pleasant change from last week, when I had a close call while scratching my ears. I was pulled up under one of our old trees giving myself a thorough ear massage when said tree began making the oddest noises. Creeeeeeek, squeeeeeek, grrrrrroan. I listened carefully to see if I could decipher a message. There was a deafening sound, CRRRRRRRRACCCCCK, and the whole thing fell on top of me! I was only saved by my lightning fast reflexes - I dropped slightly and shot out from under like a scalded hare.
I trumpeted loudly and both Doc and the woman responded immediately. The woman had been cleaning Molly's room and had heard the prelimary noises. She rushed to the door just in time to see me assaulted by the rogue tree. Doc bellowed and galloped to meet me. They both checked me over thoroughly and pronounced me in passably good shape, except for my jangled nervous system. I've been accused of having an unusually suspicious mind and overly reactive reflexes - and good thing, too, if nature is going to spring that sort of surprise on me.
On a brighter note, I think I can safely predict the arrival of a load of sweet smelling new hay in the near future.